LITTLE KING TRASHMOUTH \ wandering kit

[Crowkit.]

The day just began, and Crow didn't plan to set out on an excursion today, but he slunk beyond the silver mesh of the Carrionplace for the first time. Not by his own choice. Crow had secured a dandy little knick-knack from another, and the stranger was pretty angry, despite Crow's squawking explanation that he was just borrowing it! The feathery ebony tomkit slows his trot, sure he had lost his irate pursuer when he had squeezed through the mesh separating Carrionplace from wherever he was at now.

Carrying it in his jaws, he fancies the grooves on the circular silver object, and the clanking sound it produces, and Crow thoroughly enjoyed his newly acquired item (unbeknownst to him, a plastic play coin for little twolegs.) He attempted to bite it earlier, but found it inedible, impossible even for him to have just a nibble. Stomach gurgling with noisy hunger, his daily scavenge had come up with no food today thanks to his focused effort.

Crow saunters on, the sound of his paws padding on moist earth accessorized with the crinkling of a brightly - hued wrapper on his dark pelt. The ground shifts beneath his paws from solid and littered to a muddied soggy earth, an unfamiliar sensation to him. Crow could hardly notice, his furtive escape and curious new object engulfing his thoughts and senses. Crow didn't even notice the lack of whirring of machinery or the sounds of items both large and small shifting in their trash piles being absent, sounds he had known his whole three moons of life.

Suddenly the ground was gone and pitch black forepaws flailed in water, wherever it had appeared from. "AAA—!" The black-furred kit scrambled, backpedaling onto the bank of the stream; but with his croak of shock, his little trinket escapes his maw and splashes in. To his horror, it began to drift downstream. Didn't it know the lengths he went to acquire it? Of course it didn't. Dually - hued eyes of silvery - green and brown watched it go dismally, and the small black - pelted lump was nearly impossible to miss with his stinking pelt, two wet front paws, and a cobalt wrapper on the ground beside him.

He had gone through so much fuss for that little item, and walked some time just to keep it in his jaws. Now as it floated and bobbed away, Crow had no clue what to do next.

— he's on the stream kind of by carrionplace! and this is my first post i'm excited to rp here :)
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"speech"​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† Sharppaw is a poorly - kept secret within the bog. Her head hangs low. A silver - tipped tail lays dead behind him. His muscles are kept tight with an empty promise of bringing something worthwhile home. He'd promised himself that he would today. He can hear the idle flow of water nearby. Murky water. It always was.

Splashing within it is something less common, and Sharppaw draws himself upward at the noise. He hadn't realized how close he had gotten to Carrionplace. Standing here now, his lungs flooded with its acrid stench, that sounds stupid to even think, though.

He hated it here.

Even the rats could not beckon him to this place. It felt like somewhere you should only go to die amongst trash like yourself. He would've turned tail if not for the sound.

But he doesnt. He does the opposite, and he's not sure why. Sharppaw doesn't know what he's expecting, but its certainly not... a kit. They are dark - furred and wet - pawed, evidently the source of the noise. They smell like they're rotting along with the rest of this place. She didn't think kits deserved much more than anyone else did, but nobody deserved to spend time in a place like this. Sharppaw steps forward. There's trash clinging to them.

He was ahead of the rest of the hunting patrol still. He isn't sure what to say. " ... Hello? " He doesn't know what, but they look like they need something. " You look lost. "

[ ooc: AHHHH WELCOME TO TT! this first post has me SO intrigued already i hope you like it here <3!! && obligatory mentor tag @smogmaw ]​

 

[smogstar]

Sharppaw has taken the metaphorical reins.

On aloof pawsteps, the ashen-toned tom would shadow his apprentice, unfazed by the slowly-growing distance between them. Their shared connection, once marked by a faint glimmer of fellowship in the moons past, now exists only as a spectre in the echoes of his subconscious. As the deputy ascended the ladder of influence and clan hierarchy, Sharppaw lagged behind in his training—a juxtaposition that ultimately served as a catalyst for Smogmaw's disregard. Her mind is addled and irreparable, and when he pictures it, he can only envision the clawmarks along the ridges of her skull, left by her unsound mentality. As of late, he has been wondering where in StarClan Shimmperpaw had vanished to; at least the young tom demonstrated a shrivel of aptitude.

A weighty sigh parts from his maw, breathing out the remaining admonishment from his system. There wasn't much time left before they returned to camp, and soon he could resume his duties as deputy.

For the preceding minutes, Smogmaw's gaze had stalled on his apprentice's pawtracks in the terrain. He isn't too acutely aware of his surroundings, but as the vegetation in his peripheral shifts, and it becomes evident they've strayed quite far from the hollow, his vision lifts up. Carrionplace sits prettily just off yonder, and the realisation ushers yet another sigh from his throat.

He accelerates in his step, and whirring about his thoughts are all the criticisms he'd fling Sharppaw's way as soon as he caught up with him.

It wouldn't be his apprentice's form that seizes his attention, however.

"Nice find, Sharppaw," muses the deputy, whose gravelly voice hangs low in the air and carries downstream. His earth-coloured scrutiny fixes on the wriggling mass at the base of the creek, with not even a glint of pity in his stare. They'd found Magpiepaw in a similar manner, and look at how irksome he's since become. "Have you given it a name yet?" he would then inquire, stupidly, in a manner commensurate with his overarching disinterest in his apprentice's affairs.

As for the kid itself; the rest of the patrol ought to catch up soon, and someone of a more altruistic comportment can take control of the situation. He can presume Chilledstar will come down on him like a ton of stones if they heard he'd left a kit to die, so Smogmaw simply resigns himself to the role of an indifferent observer.

Someone will save the kid. Hell, he even wants him to be saved—but the thought of getting his paws wet overrides any possibility of him taking action.

// welcome to the shadowfam!! we're so happy to have you :D, i hope you're enjoying the site so far! ​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

To hunt unemcumbered by the looming, pouting shadow of a rosette tabby or the off-putting snickering of a tortoiseshell is freeing. Granitepelt finds his skills have even improved somewhat in the short time since he's been released from the burden of his mentors. He's already caught a lizard and even a small but well-formed snipe.

He's just dusted earth over his kills when he hears Smogmaw and Sharppaw near the Carrionplace stream. He grimaces, hoping the deputy isn't asking them to hunt in that unholy pit. He hasn't forgotten the sting of the rat bites he'd suffered during Pitchstar's insane reign, nor had he forgotten Starlingheart being attacked by the possum. Nothing good came from the Carrionplace.

Granitepelt is proven correct when he sees what the two of them have found. A tiny black kit, its fur ripe with filth from the Carrionplace, paws dipped into the stream. The gray warrior grimaces. "More trash for ShadowClan to take in?" He scoffs, merciless. "It'd be your mate taking care of this thing alongside your kits," he reminds Smogmaw caustically. He'd never allow Starlingheart to do such a thing.

// WELCOME OMG i love crow already <3 sorry for him ^ lmao​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[Crowkit.]

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Starkly mismatched eyes were too busy peering into the water to really notice any approaches. He sorely missed his escaped item. Feathered ears swivel at approaching paw steps, though his eyes stay glued to the wavering stream. Commotion and other cats lurking about were normal to Crow at Carrrionplace. It was spoken words that broke the kit's attention. He looked at the spiky - furred speaker, a bit confused he was being spoken to. "Hello?" Crow almost perfectly mimicked the stranger's tone, it seemed to him they were both confused. "I guess I am lost, I haven't been here before." The ebony kit sat up away from the edge of the stream, finally accepting his item was gone. The blue wrapper beside him flit with the newleaf breeze, and Crow slaps it down with his paw and drags it toward himself before continuing, "But I'm not really lost, I live right over there."

Gesturing towards the reeking place with his plumed tail, Crow began to wonder where this cat was from. "Where do you li —." His slightly high - pitched raspy voice ceases, silently interrupted by the approach of a larger, scary looking tom. Unmatching orbs widened at the large stranger, this guy looked like something that would eat Crow. The darkly - hued blue tom seemed familiar to the feathered tomkit, but perhaps it was just the look in the stranger's eyes, it was similar to the looks the cats in Carrionplace would give him. Sharppaw? It was unlike any name Crow had ever heard. Crow recoils at the adult's words to the younger black - furred one, Sharppaw her name was. "I don't need to be named, I already have one!" He rasps indignantly. Crow recoils after the words leave his maw, he felt nearly certain the blue tom would swat him into the stream, bite his head off, or ... something!

Another cat arrives beside the two, and a noisy crinkling starts as the wrapper mashes and tramples beneath his little paw moving in place with nervousness. He didn't like the words that rolled out of this tom's mouth either. Hmph, these guys were rude. TRASH!? Mismatched eyes widen even more, the kit taken aback by the duo of toms. "Where are you even from? What are you talking about?" Shiny orbs look upon the grey and white tom ludicrously, these strangers were talking crazy.

— thank you all!! i love shadowclan and all the charries in it <3

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"speech"​

 

[Magpiepaw]

Another gift from the rubbish pile, like him, but like him they are all already complaining of the burden of lost kittens; never wanted, never given much thought. It had been Starlingheart to name him, at the time he had not thought much to Pitchstar's suggestion of Garbagekit and had once held a fondness for it knowing the spotted tom's affections were an oddity even to his kin but now he finds himself feeling shame at having answered to it before, at having considered it a second name for so long. To be garbage was to be discarded. This child was older than he had been when he was found, speaking easily without much struggle or maybe he had just been underdeveloped. Magpiepaw didn't know, but like the bird of his name he would gather up the things he found interesting and bring them home as he always did. Sleek black paws squirmed past Granitepelt and Smogmaw, indifferently standing at the sidelines with little interest in the wayward child but he had caught sight of the dual hue of his gaze and found it fascinating. Did they see different worlds, did he know his eyes were of dirt and leaf at all? The black and white apprentice ambled closer to Sharppaw, head bobbing as he fought to maintain his posture and not stumble in the damp trash littering the ground before the sopping wet kit.
"What is your name? We're ShadowClan we live...." He turns, blue-violet gaze wide in the direction of the camp shrouded by distance and dipped trees. "...further inward. I'm Magpiepaw. Were you sent here?" His pitched tone rose into an airy falsetto of a question, "Who sent you?"
Another black cat for the collection, his gaze darts to Sharppaw's tail and then back before offering a hesitant smile to the mismatched gaze of the newcomer. They would take him in, of course, because Magpiepaw had been taken in and it just made sense to do so.
More trash for ShadowClan to take in. Granitepelt's voice is like his name, rough and filled with grains like many tiny teeth. Magpiepaw turns his head back to stare, but not his body; twisting uncomfortable to accomodate the gesture. "Yes." He answers simply.

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[Ooc]
Hello! Welcome to ShadowClan! <3 I love Crowkit already!
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[Crowkit.]

At the arrival of the bobbing cat, Crow notes to himself how he had never seen such strange cats. Their scent unfamiliar and strong, muggy and earthy. The plumage on his ears swivel as the black and white one asks his name. "They call me Crow. I'm Crow." They, the ominous they. Others back home usually shrilled the word to the kit as a curse when he was nameless, likening him to the thieving birds who ate whatever trash they could.

He scarcely listens as the one named Magpiepaw speaks and twists about, dual colored gaze meeting the wobbling cat's beaming blue orbs. Magpiepaw's eyes were almost worrisome to the black - furred kit, almost as if he could see all the unpleasant things he had ever done (or even eaten).

Shadowclan is brought up once again, and as it's said for the second time, the recognition clicks in his mind. He had heard stories from other Carrionplace locals before of cats laying in shadows, that they were swamp monsters and hunted lots of food as a team, mostly. Were you sent here? The wrapper scritches beneath pitch - black paws at the question. He had been sent running, but not anywhere in particular.

Crow looks extremely suspicious as he thinks to answer the question, his eyes shifting left and right. After an awkwardly long and fishy pause as he conjures his answer, he simply answers, "...Noo." His orbs narrow, his dark brown eye particularly shiny, maybe this was a good thing. "Could I uhhh," His question starts cawing and churlish, an awkward loudness, "Can I go with you? To there?" His shrewd look transforms into a jittery one as the question escapes his maw and two - toned eyes became wide as he looks to the two older ones, particularly fearing their reaction to an impulsive question.



— thankyouthankyou<3 i heart magpiepaw sm

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[Maggotfur.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotpaw | 06 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple​

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The girls hulking figure is rarely far from magpiepaw's side, and today is no different - a menacing figure staring down at crow with a deadpan expression and cold teal eyes. She does not understand her clans need to take in every pathetic creature that stumbles across their borders - does not understand what makes them worthy and her not. But she will not argue with the decision - not yet. She has no power here. Smogmaw already seems interested in keeping it so she can only hope it proves to be as amusing a magpiepaw had. "Tch,"

// hello hello welcome! Sorry she is rude <3

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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"wow. and here i thought that i was bad with kits."

the unwaveringly cold tone comes from the leader who walked closer to the clump of cats, nose twitching in disdain at the unfamiliar scent. it was coming from that kit, and yet their face revealed nothing. they tilted their head in curiosity that was soon lost as soon as they flicked their ears to listen to the shadow colored kitten. they sighed once more, tail lashing. another kit. tch. starclan you know how to test our patience.

"come on, kit. let's get some food in you and a nice place to sleep, yeah?"

they couldn't turn a kit away. they were fucked in the head, but not that much. stars, they don't think anyone that could easily turn away an orphaned kitten needed to be in their clan at all, but they bite their tongue. luckily this is a decision they can make on their own. they're not leaving the kit to become rat food.

//welcome!! this is your official acceptance!!!! enjoy ur stay in shadowclan I love the little guy already !!
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